A Most Auspicious Engagement
by thearendork
Summary: This is the story of the King and Queen of Arendelle's betrothal. We know how their story ended, but how did it begin? Cover image by comickergirl on Tumblr.
1. Chapter 1

**_NOTE: _**_This is the story of how Elsa and Anna's parents got engaged. Initially, I had named them Alphonse and Emilia, but since the runes on their memorial stone markers showed Agðar (English: Agdar) for the King and Iðunn (English: Idun) for the Queen, I changed their names to those. I made up the name of the kingdom where the Queen came from, though. __Additionally, the phrase below about lying back and thinking about duty was coined from the phrase "close your eyes and think of England". Thank you for reading this and I look forward to your reviews. Lastly, many thanks to nothingnothingtralala for beta-reading this._

**_DISCLAIMER: _**_Frozen is the property of Disney. I do not own anything, except the original characters in this fanfiction. Disney also owns the King and Queen of Arendelle._

* * *

She had prepared for this day ever since she became old enough to understand her duty as the only princess of Buckland—a pawn for her father's political and military ambitions. The King of Buckland was not a bad father—he had promised to find her a good match, but he was an ambitious king first and foremost. As such, Princess Idun had known she would be betrothed at seventeen years old. To whom, however, was a mystery.

Until today.

She was normally an obedient, biddable sort, content to follow orders and be a good girl. Her younger brother, the Crown Prince Richard, was the hellion of the family. There were threats to send him to military school for his rowdy behavior, but then again, he was only eight years old.

Idun decided to borrow some of her younger brother's rebelliousness and sneak downstairs to her father's study. Her curiosity got the better of her; try as she might to remind herself that her duty was for the good of Buckland, she didn't think she could stand it if she got engaged to someone older, like her cousin. She had gotten married last year, and her husband looked like he was older than her by a two dozen years.

Idun cringed. What if her fiancé was at least twice her age? Thirty-four sounded really old. And what if he's fat and balding?

_I don't know if I can lie back and think of Buckland when the time comes for me to do my duty, if my fiancé's like that,_ she thought, glancing around furtively as she made her way to her father's study. The meeting with the visitors from Arendelle had begun an hour ago. She knew she should wait until she was called, but she was dying of curiosity and wanted a glimpse of her would-be fiancé.

Another thought washed over her like cold water—if this betrothal did push through, she would become the queen of Arendelle. Queen? That was a sobering thought. She wasn't even sure she was good enough at being a princess.

_No wonder Papa's keen on marrying me off to the prince,_ she realized, her mind racing to recall her geography lessons. He was heir to a prosperous kingdom surrounded by wilderness. King Bertram would have normally ignored a country like Arendelle, but its lush forests and bountiful ice had caught his attention. The timber from Arendelle's forests and ice from its mountains would be valuable to Buckland's steadily growing army. Some tension had sparked between Buckland and Weselton when each country vied for a possible marriage alliance with Arendelle, but Weselton found itself out of the race when its candidate died from a freak accident.

As such, Princess Idun had emerged as the only candidate left. She winced, feeling bad for her former rival and remembering her earlier apprehensions toward her yet-unseen fiancé. _What's his name again? Agdar? Oh no—that sounds like a forty-year-old's name. No, it's positively archaic! He's probably older than Papa!_

_Then again, so's my name,_ Idun realized. _Oh Mama, why did you have to be so fond of Northern stories when you were pregnant with me?_

Shaking off her consternation, she quickened her pace then slowed down as she approached the door of her father's study. Taking a deep breath, she opened the heavy oak doors a crack, hoping that the people inside didn't hear the hinges creaking, and peeked.

Further out into her field of vision was her father, King Bertram—tall and dark-haired, with a closely-cropped beard. He was speaking to a man with copper hair shot with silver around the temples and a neat mustache and goatee—that must be King Raimond of Arendelle. Across King Bertram was a young man with an aristocratic profile, perhaps around twenty to twenty-five years of age. She surmised he must be the Crown Prince Agdar, since his hair was the same shade as King Raimond's.

Idun raised an intrigued eyebrow and decided he didn't look half-bad—handsome, really, even if she thought his nose was a little too big for his face. He carried himself with quiet confidence, and his dark royal uniform, crimson sash, and gray trousers lent a dashing air about him.

So absorbed was she in trying to make out what the men were saying that she never noticed her brat of a brother sneaking up behind her.

"Boo!"

There was a scream of surprise, some cussing, high-pitched hysterical laughter, the pitter-patter of feet, and a crash. It turned out that she had flung open the heavy doors after Richard startled her, and the commotion caused her father to knock over the nearby vase from the Far East that stood as tall as him.

The vase broke.

And there was silence.

Clapping a hand over her mouth, she raised her eyes to see her father with his jaw hanging open at the sight of many broken pieces of porcelain by his feet and King Raimond and his son wearing identical expressions of surprise on their faces.

Idun gulped. Oh boy, she was in HUGE trouble now. As in condemned-to-being-an-old-maid trouble. A small part of her brain that still functioned tried to reassure her that that wasn't so bad.

Right?

Somehow, she found her voice. "Papa, I am so sorry for the interruption," she babbled. "I was just passing by, and then I remembered that—and then—" she gestured helplessly with her hands, feeling doom press more heavily on her as her father's eyes narrowed.

"And then you decided to spy on us," King Bertram finished for his daughter. The meeting had gone smoothly, with the two kings about to finalize their agreement with a handshake.

Until his daughter had caused that unfortunate interruption.

Idun swallowed her fear and looked appealingly at King Raimond and Prince Agdar. She wasn't sure about their expressions—their initial surprise gave way to poker faces—but was that a spark of amusement in the prince's green eyes? She hoped it was.

Agdar felt just as unsure about the girl before him. Her face was flushed with embarrassment from the ruckus she had caused. She was wringing her hands nervously—he could tell she was thinking that she had botched the agreement between their fathers with her spying. Perhaps she felt a mixture of embarrassment and trepidation—the former because of the way her blue eyes widened comically, almost taking up half her face as she stumbled into the room, and the latter because she seemed unready for the duties of marriage and becoming the future queen of Arendelle.

He, on the other hand, was ready to do his duty as its crown prince. His duty besides becoming a good king was to sire an heir so that the Arendahl line would continue, as it has for over a hundred generations. It was a point of pride for his family and it was a tradition he'd sworn he would not break.

Agdar took his measure of the princess as discreetly as possible. He saw that she was certainly beautiful, with some of her dark hair plaited in a French braid and some flowing freely down her shoulders, clear blue eyes that reminded him of Arendelle's Lake Tor, a delicate nose, and smooth, porcelain skin. She wore a purple high-waisted gown typically worn by young women her age. What of her personality though? Her mortification made it hard for him to figure her out, and he was usually good at sizing up someone's personality based on his first impression. He supposed her self-control was lacking, considering what she'd just done. But then again, marriage was a very serious matter and he didn't blame her for being overly curious about it. It concerned the rest of her life, after all. Besides, she was still young. A yearlong engagement was more than enough time for her to be molded into the queen he wanted for Arendelle.

It looked like she was starting to recover from her gaffe because the blush on her cheeks was starting to recede. She stood straight and poised, schooling her features into an expression of regret. "My apologies, Papa, Your Majesty, Your Highness, for the disturbance I have caused," she said smoothly after clearing her throat. "I was passing by when I remembered today's significance, and I admit that curiosity got the better of me. I am sorry for acting in a manner not befitting a princess. Rest assured that it will not happen again."

King Bertram sighed. "Let's get this mess out of the way before anything else, all right? Idun, go and have Peter clean this up, please."

"Right away, Papa." With that, Princess Idun curtsied and left the room, her steps hurried yet graceful. Agdar found himself staring after her.

"Where were we? Ah, yes, you were about to give me your answer about a possible betrothal between your son and my daughter. What say you, King Raimond? Shall we seal this accord?"

King Raimond looked at his son. "Well?"

"Yes." Agdar nodded his assent, and then realized belatedly what he'd just done. He was now engaged to Princess Idun of Buckland.

* * *

"You agreed to the engagement quickly enough," King Raimond observed in low, measured tones as soon as the door of Agdar's room swung shut. Because the meeting about the betrothal had ended well, King Bertram had invited the royals of Arendelle to spend a week in his realm. King Bertram had reasoned that it would be a good way for Agdar and Idun to get to know each other a little better before announcing their engagement. "Why?"

Agdar raised his eyebrows. "Because Buckland would be a useful ally to Arendelle," he answered, surprised that his father was asking a question with such an obvious answer. "Aren't you happy we secured an alliance with Buckland? I've always said Arendelle needed strong allies, and Buckland's well on its way to becoming one."

Raimond made a noise of agreement, stroking his goatee. "That you did," he murmured, looking at his son speculatively. "I didn't expect you to agree to marry Princess Idun so readily though, with that mishap. I remember how persnickety you were when we first started looking for possible brides for you. I would have thought you would go for that Weselton girl, may the gods rest her soul. She had a rather sizable dowry, didn't she?"

"Yes." Agdar didn't voice his thought that he felt a little relieved he didn't have to pen a letter explaining why he wasn't interested in marrying the Lady Camilla of Weselton. He was truly sorry that she died—falling and breaking your neck while sleepwalking was such a bizarre way to go—but the Duke's eagerness at getting his hands on Arendelle's resources and his heir and nephew Lord Beverville's obsequiousness had set his teeth on edge. Weselton was a good trading partner, and no more.

"Agdar," Raimond began, "I do not doubt your instincts—in fact, you've been quite astute whenever I left you to your own devices. I just find it a little out of character for you to make a decision that quickly." Then Raimond smiled slowly, as if an idea just dawned on him. "Oh, but she's a beauty, isn't she?" he said, raising an eyebrow at his son.

Agdar shot his father an exasperated look. "Surely you know it takes more than just a pretty face to turn my head, Father," he retorted.

"Ah, my boy," Raimond chortled, "you may have inherited your mother's mile-wide practical streak, but there's a romantic hiding behind that dutiful façade of yours. Don't even bother denying it because us Arendahls have always been romantics. She was just as persnickety as you, always shooting me down back then, but I won her over eventually. Remember—"

"Yes, yes, our family motto, love will thaw. I know. You've told me hundreds of times how you eventually won Mother's hand. Or should I say, how you wore her down."

"Oh, you wound me, son!" Raimond clutched at his chest exaggeratingly. "You make it sound like my pursuit of your mother was such a bad thing! If it hadn't been for my persistence, you wouldn't even be here right now."

"Touché." Agdar loved and admired his father, but sometimes the over-the-top theatrics got on his nerves. It was precisely King Raimond's gregarious nature that endeared him to Arendelle's populace, along with his common touch. Agdar, knowing he was his mother's son with his seriousness and cautiousness, nevertheless aspired to become a good king like his father. He knew he wasn't going to achieve it the way Raimond did and had decided that his first step in doing so was to have Arendelle allied in some way with a strong country like Buckland.

"On a serious note," Raimond continued, "I don't want you to marry for the sake of duty. I hope you chose Princess Idun because you saw something in her that you liked—and I don't mean her father's troops. Get to know her and decide, with your heart and mind in agreement, if you still want to marry her or not."

"Wouldn't that invite Buckland to declare war on us if I break off my engagement with the princess?" Agdar pointed out.

"Well…yes," Raimond admitted. "But if it comes to that, I'm sure I can smooth things over. Bertram may be an ambitious windbag sometimes, but family is important to him. I'm sure he wouldn't do anything that would cause his only daughter misery."

"Thank you," Agdar said dryly. It seemed to go over Raimond's head that he just implied his son would be a bad husband.

Agdar wisely decided to keep his mouth shut to avoid giving his father any more ideas.

* * *

Idun was reading _A Treatise on the History of Arendelle_ when a knock on her door broke her concentration. She had been fully absorbed over the mysterious origins of the family she was going to marry into—oral history and legends said that the gods had blessed the line of Arngrim Arendahl, and as such it remained unbroken. She placed a bookmark on the page she was reading and called out "coming!", groping with her feet for her slippers. "Who is it?"

"It's me."

_Papa._ She swallowed nervously. Surely he wouldn't subject her to a sermon at this time of the night. She glanced at the clock—good, it's already nine in the evening—hurrying to her door and fumbled with the lock.

"Doing some reading?" her father inquired mildly, gesturing at the book she clutched at her chest. She nodded hesitantly.

_Good, he's not mad—at least, I don't think he is,_ Idun thought, searching his face for any hint of displeasure at her behavior earlier.

"Aren't you going to invite me in?"

"Oh! Right. Sorry. About this and earlier." She stepped aside to let him in.

King Bertram looked at his daughter closely, examining in her girlish features that were starting to take a more womanly cast. He wondered if he made the right decision in betrothing her with Raimond's boy—as young men, they had talked idly about a possible marriage alliance, but he never thought about it seriously until he saw the potential in it. Idun seemed so young, which she'd highlighted earlier with that stunt she pulled.

As if to prove the point further, Idun started shuffling her feet under Bertram's scrutiny. "Um, Papa?" she prompted hesitantly. "Is there something you wished to speak to me about?

"Hmm? Ah yes, it's about your engagement with Prince Agdar—"

"I'm sorry for spying on you, I really am! I was just curious what he looked like and how old he was because Agdar was such a stuffy name and I thought he was older than you and I didn't want to marry an old geezer like what Catherine did—"

"Idun." His firm tone put a stop to her torrent of words. "A word of advice: do NOT tell Agdar what you think of his name. At least, not until the two of you have been married for some years and you've already grown comfortable with one another."

"Along with telling him that I think his face still needs to grow with his nose?" she added cheekily to defuse the situation. Without sounding insufferably arrogant, she knew when she could wrap her father around her little finger, and right now there were telltale signs that she could. He had this way of scrunching up his eyebrows when he worried about his children, which gave her the idea that he wasn't angry at her.

"Especially that," Bertram deadpanned, though there was a hint of amusement in his tone. "Anyway, I also wanted to tell you that King Raimond and Prince Agdar will be staying with us for a week, so I expect you to be on your best behavior. I also want you to get to know him a little bit and for you to let him do the same to you. If all went well this week between the two of you, I will announce your engagement."

Engagement. The word rang in her ears. A part of her remained in disbelief that in time, she would be wed to a man she barely knew. Why had she agreed to it? She wasn't a thing to be given away—she was her own person!

"Idun?" Bertram's gentle voice snapped her out of her dark thoughts. "Are you all right?"

Idun took a deep, calming breath before answering him. "No," she said honestly. "It's just starting to sink in that I'm going to be given away to a man I don't even know, to live with him in a place I haven't even been to, like I'm some kind of bargaining chip." She regretted her words when Bertram flinched in response, but that was the awful truth, no matter how much one looked at it.

After an awkward pause, Bertram began to speak. "I don't know how much you heard, but Agdar suggested making this a yearlong engagement. It will give you plenty of time to decide if you want to be married to him or not."

"That was considerate of him," Idun commented, sitting on her bed. She sighed, realizing how petulant she must have sounded. "I didn't mean to be whiny about the—my engagement, Papa. I know how important it is for us to be allies with Arendelle, but I just…" she trailed off and bit her lip. She tried to find the words to make her father understand that she knew the implications of her engagement, but she couldn't help that she felt scared despite the years she spent in getting used to the idea. Catherine, two days before her wedding, seemed placid enough to accept her fate. Why couldn't she? She was lucky that Agdar met her initial requirements for a fiancé despite his name and nose.

Bertram sat beside Idun and took her hands in his, squeezing them reassuringly. She guessed he noted how clammy her hands were and saw a flash of worry cross his face. Her father was not a man of words, but she could read him well enough—the way his eyes roved told her that he was searching for something to say to her. Deciding to put her father out of his misery, she said, "Well, I'll make nice with him tomorrow," she said, pulling her hands away. "I've been reading about Arendelle so I'll have something to talk about with him. But what was your impression of him, Papa?"

"He seemed like a nice enough young man," Bertram replied, looking relieved that they had moved on to a safer topic. "More serious compared to his father though." He stroked his beard thoughtfully. "Actually, that might be a good thing—he could be a good balance for you."

"Wow, I didn't think you'd play at being a matchmaker," Idun teased. "Thanks, Papa. I feel a little better about this whole engagement thing." She hugged him, finding comfort at her father's warm, solid arms. She closed her eyes and cherished the moment.

After all, whether she liked it or not, it was only a matter of time before another man would replace the one who held her in his arms.


	2. Chapter 2

**_Disclaimer:_**_ Frozen is the property of Disney. I do not own anything, except the original characters in this fanfiction._

* * *

Agdar was a creature of habit. Back in Arendelle, he always took a brisk walk around the castle before breaking his fast. He was not about to change his routine just because he was a guest of King Bertram; however, to avoid inadvertently insulting his host, he had informed the king after their meeting that he intended to walk around the palace gardens in the morning.

"By all means, Prince Agdar," King Bertram had said. "Consider the palace a second home."

And so, he did.

What he had not intended, however, was to lose his bearings in the palace's long, twisting hallways. He gathered he was in the Hall of Portraits, as it was called back home—obviously, considering how the walls were lined with paintings of Buckland's past rulers. "Blast it, where am I?" he exclaimed in annoyance.

"Better not curse in front of my great-great grandfather William," a feminine voice quipped from behind him. Agdar spun around to see blue eyes sparkling with mirth above a small grin. "He once had a groom whipped when he overheard him saying what you just did."

"Princess Idun," Agdar said, bowing automatically. "What a surprise to see you here."

_Surprise? She lives here, you dolt._

If she had the same thought about his inane statement, she didn't show it. "Good morning," she responded, nodding with a smile. "Do you need any help finding your way around here?"

Agdar shrugged. "I'm afraid so. Buckland Palace is about twice as large as Arendelle Castle, and I have a poor sense of direction to begin with," he admitted self-deprecatingly.

Idun laughed at his admission, and in turn he found himself chuckling along with her. "Where are you going? I could accompany you instead," she offered.

Agdar shook his head. "I have to get back to my room," he said. "I'm due to have breakfast with your father in an hour, and I need to freshen up." Idun frowned quizzically, unsure of his point. "I always take morning walks before breakfast. I walked around your gardens—which are lovely, by the way—but Buckland is warmer than what I'm used to," he explained. "I was able to find my way to the gardens by asking servants for directions as I went along, but I'm having a hard time retracing my steps back to my room."

"Which is why I'm offering to—oh," Idun realized. Agdar watched in mild fascination at the light blush forming across the bridge of her dainty nose. She must have realized the possible implications of her intended action. "Right. Forgive me, Prince Agdar, that was remiss of me."

"Agdar."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Call me Agdar," he clarified with a small, crooked grin. "We are engaged, aren't we?"

"If you call me Idun, I'll call you Agdar. Deal?" she replied with a glint in her eye. He was getting more intrigued with his bride-to-be—prim and proper at one moment, mischievous at the next. Typically he would have dismissed her as flighty, but he had a hunch that she was more than that.

He resolved to know more about her. What hidden depths were there behind her pretty blue eyes? But first, he had to get back to his room.

"Well, Idun, if you would just give me the directions to my room, I will be in your debt," Agdar said with an exaggerated bow. At the back of his mind, he was a little surprised at how silly he was acting. Perhaps she was rubbing off him despite the early stage of their acquaintance. He didn't rise until he heard her giggle at his antics. "I do hate being late," he continued as he straightened.

"Ah, a stickler for punctuality, are you? Alright, getting to your room from here is easy enough. Just go straight ahead, turn left, straight again, then left. You'll know you're close when you're in a hallway with a statue of a Valkyrie at the end—I call her Bertha. Anyway, once you reach Bertha, turn right. You should be in the west wing where your room is located," she directed.

"So…left, straight, left, straight towards Bertha, then right?" he confirmed.

Idun nodded. Agdar muttered the directions to himself before responding with a nod of his own. "Alright. I hope to see you at breakfast, Idun. Perhaps later you can show me around the palace so I wouldn't lose my way again."

"I'll be more than happy to do so."

A sudden urge to see her smile or blush overcame him, so he took her hand and brushed a light kiss across her knuckles. "Until then."

Sure enough, Idun's face was suffused with pink at his courtliness. "Um…yes."

Agdar turned and walked away, feeling a light spring in his step. _It looks like I made the right choice,_ he thought, smiling at the recollection of his encounter with Idun.

Walking faster, he hurried to his room, looking forward to breakfast.

* * *

_He's looking at me. Why is he looking at me like that? Do I have something stuck in my teeth?_ Idun ran her tongue over her teeth as surreptitiously as she could, keeping her eyes on her plate. She recounted what she had for breakfast—sausage, two pieces of toast, some scrambled eggs, some salad, and a cup of hot chocolate. A perfectly balanced meal made up of meat, greens, and bread. _Is he...is he judging me because I finished everything on my plate?_ she thought self-consciously. _Because if he is, I...I don't want to be engaged to him anymore. I'll tell Papa to break the engagement off. I don't care how ridiculous it sounds, I will not let anyone, not even the crown prince of Arendelle, to judge me based on what and how much I eat!_

Idun viciously stabbed the last piece of sausage on her plate with her fork and placed it in her mouth, chewing it as defiantly as she could without breaking dining etiquette. She risked a glance at Agdar, who looked startled at her sudden hostility toward her food. He raised his eyebrows as if to ask what the poor sausage had done to rouse her ire. Trying to school her face into an impassive mask was quite hard for someone as expressive as her to do; she was sometimes successful when she did her best, but based on how her face felt now, she guessed she looked like she swallowed something sour.

"Idun, darling, are you all right?" her father asked. "You look like you ate something that didn't agree with you."

"On the contrary, Papa, I loved what Chef Nathan had prepared. See? I've finished everything on my plate," Idun replied sweetly. _I dare you to say something about my appetite, Prince Prissypants. I DARE YOU._

But instead, it was King Raimond who did so, with a wide, approving grin. "In Arendelle, a healthy appetite is very much appreciated, Princess. Isn't that right, Agdar?"

"Ah, yes, quite," he responded, nodding at Idun with a tentative smile. "The meadow outside the city gates is perfect for picnics. Families usually gather there on Sundays after church." He paused, as if to gauge her reaction. "Perhaps we can go on a picnic when you visit Arendelle," he suggested.

Idun blinked, flabbergasted at the unexpected thing he said. She felt her cheeks flaming at her earlier assumptions toward Agdar. I'm such an idiot, she thought, mentally kicking herself. _Why did I overreact like that? He was really nice at the Portrait Hall earlier—even kissed my hand! Nobody's EVER kissed my hand. He's the first man to kiss my hand. Would he be the last?_

That thought made her cheeks burn even hotter. She cleared her throat and patted her mouth with her napkin to ignore the butterflies fluttering in her stomach. "That sounds wonderful, Prince Agdar."

"I look forward to it, then."

She couldn't tear her gaze away from his jade green eyes—he was looking at her intently, as if they were the only people in the room.

But of course, as bratty younger brothers are wont to do, Richard ruined the moment by scrunching up his face and making kissing noises. "Oooh, that sounds wooooonderful, Prince Agdar! Kiss me! Mwah!"

Idun's left eye twitched at her brother's irritating behavior. "I'm going to count to three, _Richie_," she said in a dangerously even voice, her face settling into a calm mask as she fixed him a flat stare. "If you're not out of that chair by then, I'm going to throttle you very hard, do you understand?"

"Oooh, I'm sooooo scared!"

"One."

"I'm shaking!"

"Two."

"Richard. You're excused," Bertram said firmly, giving his son a warning look. "Now."

Richard grinned and ran out of the dining room while father and daughter let out identical sighs. "I am sorry for my son's behavior. I'm afraid he's at that age," Bertram apologized.

Idun rolled her eyes. "Yes," she agreed. "He can be somewhat civilized around other people—well, except me, probably because I'm his older sister."

Agdar chuckled at her observation. "Is that what younger brothers do, then? Annoy older sisters endlessly?"

"Pretty much. Don't you have siblings?"

"I'm an only child."

"Lucky you."

Agdar shrugged. "I suppose, but it can get lonely sometimes. I've always wondered what it'd be like to have a younger sibling."

Idun leaned toward him with a serious look on her face, though her eyes were dancing with amusement. "Then let me make you an offer you can't refuse—adopt my brother, please. I assure you that he's housebroken."

Agdar raised his eyebrows. "You're joking, aren't you?"

"I'm perfectly serious. I know he's your heir, Papa," she said, turning to Bertram, "but I'm sure Richard and Agdar would get along quite nicely if he's adopted by Arendelle. He can come back here when he's older. I mean," she turned to her fiancé, "Richard could use some lessons on politeness from you." She flashed him a what she hoped was a persuasive smile.

Agdar raised an eyebrow and played along. "If I do end up adopting your brother, he'll still be family, although he'll be your brother-in-law," he pointed out, trying to keep a straight face at their silly exchange. He held her gaze for a few moments until she blinked and started giggling. Agdar was able to maintain a neutral expression but gave up after a minute, chuckling as well.

Had they paid more attention, they would have noticed their fathers exchanging satisfied looks at how swimmingly they were getting along. King Bertram's and King Raimond's one thought was etched clearly on their faces.

This was turning out to be a most auspicious engagement indeed.

* * *

Later that afternoon, the betrothed couple found themselves having tea in a gazebo at Buckland Palace's expansive gardens. Agdar had told Idun that while he did not mind tea, he preferred coffee. "I developed a taste for it during university," he explained, taking a sip of his tea. "I was quite a bookworm, staying up late at night poring over any book that caught my fancy."

"Is that so? What subjects were you partial to?"

"Well..." Agdar hesitated. "It's rather boring, I suppose, to other people, but I had found the order and logic of geometry to be quite fascinating, especially how it made nature beautiful." He paused, looking at her a little uncertainly. He was sure geometry was not something most girls are interested in, but her patient, friendly silence encouraged him to continue. "For instance, the Fibonacci sequence—well, first let me explain what it is—"

"It's a series of numbers in which each number is the sum of the two numbers before it, right?"

"Yes! Do you like geometry too?" Agdar asked eagerly, leaning toward her. Idun laughed and waved her hand in denial.

"I'm competent at arithmetic, but I can't say I'm as passionate about mathematics as you are," she said. "I looked up what the Fibonacci sequence meant when I was twelve years old after losing a one-up contest to this snotty niece of a visiting duke." She swirled the contents of her cup thoughtfully. "I remember looking up all sorts of trivia related to the Fibonacci sequence, vowing to crush her with my superior intellect, but I never had the chance to do so." She set her cup down and pinned him with a scrutinizing look. "You knew her. Her uncle had approached you for a possible marriage alliance."

_Weselton's niece,_ he realized. "Ah…yes. May the One God grant her soul peace," he said awkwardly.

Idun bit her lip uncertainly, appearing to gather her nerve. "Agdar, I…I'm sorry to be straightforward in asking this, but if she hadn't died, would you still have chosen me over her? I may be a royal princess, but in terms of wealth, Weselton is richer than Buckland. Surely it would have been more advantageous for you to pick her over me. Well, if things hadn't turned out the way it did for her." She shook her head, her face reddening in embarrassment. "Forget I asked, that was very inappropriate, and I shouldn't have questioned you."

Agdar shook his head too. "I learned from my parents that honesty is one of the keys to a lasting marriage," he began. "I know we're not married yet, but as early as now, I promise to be honest with you." Idun's eyes widened at his declaration—she clearly did not expect any promises so early in their engagement, and a part of him was puffed up with pride at her reaction. "To answer your question, yes, Weselton was the logical choice, but her uncle's avarice had put me off. I did not want to be allied that closely with people like him. Weselton is a good trading partner, but that's it." He paused to watch her reaction at his admission. She remained quiet, sensing there was more. Agdar took another sip of his tea and cleared his throat to continue.

"Arendelle decided to try to ally itself with Buckland because of its military. My country is vast, but most of it is wilderness made up of forests and snowy mountains—we have a small population compared to yours and Weselton's, and if we were invaded, we will be crushed. I had asked for your hand in marriage with that in mind."

"…Oh."

That one word pricked at his conscience. Agdar knew his reason for pursuing her hand was far from the romantic notion girls of Idun's age would have dreamed about, but he had promised her honesty. He licked his lips nervously—he had a feeling that his next words would make or break the new and suddenly fragile friendship he had formed with his fiancée. He reached across the table and grasped her hands, looking straight into her eyes, and hoped she found him sincere. "I had thought I would have a typical engagement arranged for me—that I would find myself with a bride-to-be that I would have, at best, a tepid relationship with. But after speaking with you for the first time this morning, and at breakfast, I found myself hoping that maybe, just maybe, I will have more than that with you, if we get married."

It wasn't exactly a declaration of love, but Agdar didn't think it was in him to fall in love at first sight. He was a believer in logic and reason, and they told him that he needed to get to know Idun better to see how they would suit in terms of personality and temperament. It was a huge step for him to tell her he hoped that love will grow between them eventually, or at least, a strong relationship built on trust and friendship. Yes, it was less than what he had seen with his parents, but definitely more compared to the rest of the royal engagements and marriages he had heard about.

He waited with bated breath for her reaction, and let it out when she gave him a small, tentative smile. "Thank you for your honesty, Agdar," she said quietly, looking down at their joined hands, her hair hiding her eyes. "I will try my best to be the perfect wife for you.

He shook his head. "No," he murmured, tipping her chin up so he could see her. She kept her eyes downcast. "Idun, please, look at me." She finally raised her gaze, and he wanted to drive away the insecurity he saw lurking within the blueness of her eyes. "Don't be anything other than who you are," he said gently, tucking a lock of her hair behind her ear. "It doesn't become you."

"Who am I to you, then? You've known me for less than a day."

_Tread carefully,_ an inner voice advised. _You're not out of the woods yet._ "You have a point there," he agreed. "But I'm hoping to learn more about the girl I met at the Hall of Portraits this morning. I found her to be quite charming and spirited, and I wonder if there's more to her than meets the eye."

Idun smiled wryly, pulling her hands away from his. "So does she."

It was the opening he was hoping for. "Why do you say that?"

She sighed, a frown creasing her brow. She muttered something indistinct before taking a deep breath through her nose. "Sometimes I wonder if I could be more than just the Princess of Buckland. I know my duty is to marry well for my family's honor and my country's benefit, and once I'm married I have to produce an heir and a spare for my husband—but what about me? What about what I want? That sounds selfish—and the funny thing is, I don't even know what I want."

"Do you feel you're being forced into this engagement, then?" Agdar probed gently. He ignored the sense of alarm growing in his chest—what if she didn't want to be engaged at all? Much as he wanted Idun to be his wife for the good of his country, he didn't have it in him to marry an unwilling bride. He braced himself for her answer as she bit her bottom lip thoughtfully.

"No," Idun finally said. "A part of me wants this engagement too, because I'm happy that I'm useful somehow. That I'll have roles to fulfill later on. Mother to our children, queen to Arendelle...roles which, frankly, scare me and make me wonder why I want more when I'll probably have my hands full with those." She threw up her hands in mild exasperation. "In fact, I should probably count myself lucky I'm engaged to you—you were much better than what I had expected," she blurted, blushing when she realized what she had just said.

Agdar's curiosity was piqued. "Oh? And what did you expect?"

"Forget I said anything."

"Oh no, you can't expect me not to say anything after that. Come on, out with it—I promised you honesty, remember?" he wheedled.

She rolled her eyes. "Fine. Papa had warned me not to tell you this, but when I learned my fiance's name was Agdar, I thought I was going to be engaged to a man as old as my grandfather," she admitted grudgingly. "I was relieved to find out you were only twenty-two. Then I realized my name was just as archaic as yours."

"I may be young in age, but my father always told me I'm much too serious," he said. Something sparked in Idun's eyes even though she kept her face straight.

"You're not serious, are you?"

"I just told you I am too serious for my own good, and now you ask me if I'm not serious?" He paused for a beat, catching on her train of thought. "Seriously?"

They stared at each other for a few seconds before laughing. "All right, but seriously—and that is hopefully the last time I'll use that word this afternoon—I think we suit each other very well, at least at this stage of our acquaintance. I feel at ease with you, and I only count very few people who make me feel that way. For you to do that in less than a day...I would say that bodes well for our future, doesn't it?"

"I suppose," Idun agreed, still a little skeptical.

"You will have the final say, Idun," Agdar said quietly. "If you do not feel comfortable enough to marry me, we can call off the engagement. You have my word that I will not force you to do something you don't want to do. And I will make sure that it will be known that you were the one who broke things off, so you will not encounter any difficulties later on if that would happen. But I hope it won't have to come to that."

"Thank you. That was very considerate of you, Agdar."

They fell into a comfortable silence. "Well, since we're trying to get to know each other a little better, what do you say we spend the rest of the afternoon quizzing each other?" Idun suggested.

"About what?"

"Anything you can think of. Like..." Idun pursed her lips, frowning. "What's your favorite food?"

"Chocolate. You?"

"I'm crazy about strawberries."

"Dip that in chocolate and I promise you heaven."

"Really? We'll have to try that sometime, then. Okay, what's your most embarrassing moment?"

"You just had to ask that, didn't you?"

"Hey, no answering a question with another question. Honesty, remember?"

And so on, and so forth.

This girl made him smile—he couldn't remember a day he had ever smiled and laughed so much, and over the most unexpected things. From this day on, he would always think of the word 'serious' as funny. She made him chatty—if his father saw him now, talking animatedly with his hands waving about, he would say "who are you, and what have you done to my son?"

This girl made him do things that he normally would not. But that wasn't the last un-Agdar thing he did before the day ended.

Before the day ended, he found himself cupping this girl's cheek tenderly with his hand to kiss her, thinking, _This girl…this incredible, wonderful girl…_

Agdar knew he was out of his depth when it came to romance, but he was sure of one thing: that he will do everything he can not to let Idun go.

Because before the day ended, he was already in love with this girl.


	3. Chapter 3

****_Disclaimer: _****_Frozen is the property of Disney. I do not own anything, except the original characters in this fanfiction._

* * *

Idun touched her lips as she stared at the cloth canopy of her bed, her mind was still awhirl with the events that transpired earlier today. When she woke up this morning, she had expected a day of exchanging bland niceties with her fiancé. Experiencing her first kiss was something she had not anticipated at all.

If she read Agdar correctly (and tried not to let her feminine vanity preen from the knowledge), he was smitten with her. To say that she was surprised was putting it mildly, because from what she had seen of him, he seemed to be the serious, no-nonsense type—his reason for pursuing her hand in marriage was the most unromantic she had ever heard. In fact, she thought she would fall first, because he was such a gentleman and no male had ever shown the kind of attention and consideration he had toward her. She had been to a few balls, but Lady Camilla of Weselton, with her shining blonde hair and flirtatious wit, had always been the belle. Not that she was lumped with the wallflowers, but she had never been the first choice.

Until now.

_I suppose I'm flattered by the attention,_ Idun mused, punching her pillow to fluff it up, _but why am I so ambivalent toward this? I should be happy that my fiancé and I get along…really well, right? The entire thing played out like a fairy tale, and he's practically Prince Charming._

The kiss had been chaste, moderately brief, and pleasant. She had felt a tingling sensation all the way down to her toes, and when her eyes fluttered open, Agdar was gazing at her with such affection that she felt heat creeping up her neck to suffuse her face, making her cheeks practically glow. He had smiled at her as he touched her cheek, and all she could do was gulp and look at him with eyes wide like a hunted deer.

Idun groaned. "I must've looked like an idiot to him," she muttered. _An adorable idiot, _her mind tried to reassure her. Willing away her embarrassment, she turned on her side and clutched her other pillow to her chest. She closed her eyes and tried not to think of anything.

But the last thing she thought of before slipping into unconsciousness was how kind and warm Agdar's jade green eyes were.

* * *

The week passed quickly. Thankfully, Agdar didn't make any references about the kiss they had shared. He must have realized he things were moving a little too fast between them, because for the rest of the week he kept things friendly by telling Idun stories about his boyhood in Arendelle and his university years in Corona. Majority of his time was also spent with his father and hers—they needed to hammer out more details regarding the Arendelle-Buckland alliance. Personally, she thought he was being a little too cautious, because unlike most princesses, she had kept herself abreast with the latest news from the Eudoran Continent. As far as she knew, things were peaceful. Then again, Weselton's been beefing up its military lately.

_Better to err on the side of caution, I guess,_ Idun mused with a frown as she stared into space, her sketchbook on her lap. She found herself antsy for some reason earlier and decided to spend the afternoon sketching in the gardens. However, she had been sitting on a bench for a good hour already without having anything to show for it.

Idun squinted at her blank sheet of paper, pursing her lips as she continued her train of thought. _Considering how deep the discussions are going among the three of them, it looks like the engagement is set in stone now. Papa is going to make it official at the party tomorrow night._ She pitied Mrs. Smythe, her dressmaker, who must have labored night and day over her dress to make sure it was ready by tomorrow. Her engagement dress had been ready for months now, but she had not anticipated that her bustline would…change. _I suppose I should be pleased by that development. I was beginning to despair I was going to look like a fifteen-year-old boy for the rest of my life,_ Idun thought with a mixture of amusement and embarrassment. _I'm going to ask Papa to pay her more than usual,_ she resolved, casting her narrow gaze about to look for a good subject to draw.

"You look quite determined. A penny for your thoughts?"

Idun sputtered but managed in time to mask it into a small, ladylike cough. "Oh! Agdar. You startled me," she exclaimed, whipping her head to her left to see him standing nearby. The late afternoon sun cast a halo about his head, which made her notice how nice his hair looked and made her wonder how it would feel against her fingers.

"My apologies. Am I interrupting you, though?" he asked a little uncertainly, taking a step back. "If I am, I'll just—"

"Oh no! It's—it's fine," Idun said, recovering from her momentary lapse. She bit her lip and tilted her head, regarding her fiancé to consider a sudden idea. "Actually, I have a favor to ask," she said after a pause. "I've been trying to sketch something, but as you can see," she held up her sketchbook, "I've been unsuccessful. Do you mind if I draw you?"

Agdar raised his eyebrows, his mouth quirking into a crooked smile. "I'm flattered you would choose me as a subject," he said, rubbing the back of his neck self-consciously. "I don't know if you'll find me a good one, though. I tend to be fidgety."

Idun waved a hand in dismissal and ignored the butterflies her stomach produced in his presence. "You'll be alright," she assured him. "I've drawn my dog Patches, and he was the worst. I'm sure you won't surpass him."

"Good to know," he said. "Should I sit here?" He gestured to the wrought-iron chair in front of the bench she occupied.

"Yes, that's good." She waited until Agdar was settled comfortably on his chair. "Now hold still," Idun instructed as she started to draw the outlines of his face. "Oh, by the way, do you want to eat something?" she asked, flicking a glance at him to get angles of his jaw right.

"No, thank you, I'm quite alright. I just came from a meeting with your father and mine, and food was served," he replied, shifting a little. "Sandwiches. I must say that you have an excellent chef. I didn't think I'd enjoy cheese sandwiches, but he made it work."

"That sounds like Chef Nathan, alright," Idun agreed, cringing inwardly at how inane she must have sounded. She ducked her head to her sketchpad, trying to hide her embarrassment. _This is awkward. Why am I being awkward? It's just Agdar. He kissed you last Sunday._

Cue furious blushing, which worsened when she saw Agdar smiling at her. "What?" she asked self-consciously, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear.

"I'm sorry. It's just, you look so adorable, sitting there and blushing. I have to say my ego is tickled by that," he confessed, grinning. His grin grew wider as Idun scowled at him.

"Really? How about now?" she challenged, glaring at him sourly. "Adorable enough for you?"

"You make me want to pinch your cheeks," he shot back with a grin, leaning forward.

Idun sighed and rolled her eyes. "Well, there goes my plan to be a disagreeable harridan," she said, glad that her blush had receded. "And please get back to your previous pose," she requested him archly. He complied, sitting with his back straight, a slight smile still in place which she tried to ignore. Clearing her throat, she asked him, "Anyway, how was your meeting? Is everything ironed out?"

Agdar nodded. "Your father was very agreeable to the terms mine had set. Immediate aid, no questions asked, and in exchange, Arendelle will give Buckland an indefinite discount of fifteen percent in lumber and ice."

She suddenly regretted asking him that, because it once again reminded her that their engagement was born out of cold necessity and politics, not love. Idun's dismay must have been written clearly on her face, making Agdar tilt his head slightly and regard her with concern.

"Are you alright?" he asked, his brow furrowed.

Idun managed a tight smile. "Yes," she answered him, making a show of erasing something on her sketchbook to avoid elaborating further. She could feel penetrating stare burning into her, as if trying to divine her thoughts. "I'm fine, really. I suppose I'm still trying to get used to the idea that I'm an engaged woman, that's all," she tried to reassure him, keeping her head down as if she were critiquing her work and hoping he wouldn't press further.

Thankfully, he didn't, but he did change the subject.

"Had I overstepped my bounds when I kissed you?"

_He just had to ask me that,_ Idun groaned inwardly. Mustering her courage, she met his eyes head-on and fixed a wry grin on her face. "Honesty, huh?" she asked, trying to buy herself some more time.

"No answering a question with another question, remember?" Agdar reminded her with a smile tinged with uncertainty. Idun realized he was apprehensive toward what her possible answer might be. _It wouldn't be fair to him if I didn't give him the whole truth,_ she thought. She had tried to figure out if she returned his feelings for her ever since the kiss, but she was no closer to the answer now than she had been when she first started puzzling it out.

Idun liked him. Alright, "like" wasn't exactly the right word to use—she was strongly attracted to him. When she started attending balls, she had wondered what her type was, which the girls she stood with whispered about as they waited for someone to ask them to dance. The men who she had danced with were handsome enough, nice enough, but not interesting enough. Agdar was…he was…

_I suppose that__'__s the problem,_ she thought, biting her lip as she tried to answer him. _I don__'__t know why I__'__m wildly attracted to him, I just am._

"Well, thank you. That's good to know."

Idun's eyes widened as her heart practically stopped when she realized she had spoken out loud. _Someone kill me now,_ she groaned inwardly, bending her head and covering her face with her hands. She started when she felt warmth against her side—Agdar must have moved from his chair to sit beside her on the bench. He pulled her hands away from her face and tilted it up level to his. His hands fell to his knees when he saw she wouldn't look away from him. She couldn't—there was no way she could tear her gaze away from the intensity of his.

"You must know I feel the same attraction toward you," he began quietly. "I've always prided myself as a logical man, and for days after I kissed you, I tried to figure out why. I prevented from talking about it because I thought it was just a fluke. I want to be remembered as a good king," he admitted, "and I was so determined to secure your hand in marriage because I thought it would be for the good of Arendelle. For the past few days I was convinced that I had fooled myself into falling in love with you in a day because I wanted to achieve my objective so badly. But now…" he trailed off.

"Now?"

"I think I did. Fall in love with you in a day. Which is crazy, but I can't think of any other reason why I feel this way toward you." He shrugged helplessly, expelling a breath of frustration.

Idun blinked, trying to gather her scattered thoughts. Agdar's revelation threw her off balance, but his patient silence allowed her to latch on some semblance of logic. Her brain worked furiously to form coherent thoughts that she might use to explain why she was ambivalent despite her attraction to him. She wasn't ready to call it love—not just yet.

"What if the attraction fades once we're married?" she asked, knitting her brow. "It's not…I won't be shackled to a loveless marriage," she declared as she realized the truth behind her ambivalence. She had seen how separate her parents' lives were. They respected each other and were good parents, to be sure—but the distance between them was as wide as the sea between Arendelle and Buckland. Her mother had been a beautiful woman, but it wasn't enough to keep her father from neglecting her in pursuit of his ambitions. "Beauty and lust fade into dust, my little apple. Marry someone who will love you for who you are, not for your looks or the dowry you can bring to the table," her mother had said, calling her by the meaning of her name.

"Neither do I, but from what I've seen from my parents' marriage, it takes work," Agdar answered her seriously. "We have a year before we get married, Idun. And I have given you my word that if this—" he waved his hands—"thing doesn't work out between us, you may break off the engagement. I will not have an unwilling bride. It will be miserable for both parties in the long run."

"Oh. Right." Idun had been so focused on dissecting her baffling attraction toward her fiancé that she had forgotten he had given her a way out. "I'm sorry. I'm just…scared, I guess." She bit her lip and lowered her gaze to her hands, which were folded on her lap.

"So am I," Agdar said frankly, which surprised her. She glanced back up at him, her eyebrows raised. "Oh yes," he continued. "Well, perhaps scared isn't the right word. I hate plunging into the unknown," he amended. "Love, romance, attraction…I have never concerned myself with these, but when I met you, I found myself consumed by them. And it galls me that I couldn't explain why I fell for you in a day."

His irritated expression as he confessed how he felt made her laugh. "What?" he asked crossly.

"You should've seen the look on your face," Idun said in between giggles. "I would think falling in love wouldn't make someone sound like an utter curmudgeon."

"I am happy to know that my fiancée holds me in such high esteem," Agdar deadpanned. He waited until she was finished laughing, which was about a minute or two. "Hmm, looks like once you start laughing, you find it hard to stop," he observed.

"Yes, that's right," Idun confirmed through the last of her giggles. "I'm sorry, once I start, I just can't." She bit her lip to stop another giggling fit, sighing through her nose. "Well, I never did get to finish drawing you," she said ruefully. "And it's getting late. We'd better head back inside." She stood up and smoothed out her skirt, starting toward the cobblestone path back to the palace.

"Idun."

The seriousness of his tone stopped her in her tracks. "Yes?" she asked, looking over her shoulder at Agdar. The uncertainty on his face made her pause. "What is it?" she asked, concerned.

He seemed at to be at war with himself for a minute before shaking his head. "Never mind, it's not that important," he said.

Idun raised an eyebrow at him. "Honesty, remember?" she prompted him. He looked edgy, appearing to gather his nerve.

"I just wanted to do this," Agdar said, stepping up beside her to reach out and entwine his fingers with hers. The warmth of his hand shot sparks of awareness up her arm, causing her to blush. She nodded.

"Yes," Idun murmured. "I'd like that."


	4. Chapter 4

**_Disclaimer: _**_Frozen is the property of Disney. I do not own anything except the original characters in this work of fanfiction._

* * *

Idun couldn't fathom how fast her father had organized things for the ball. She has only been engaged for a week, and even then the engagement was not set in stone, considering Agdar's promise to give her a year to decide for sure if she wished to marry him. _The only way Papa could have done this,_ she thought as she adjusted her tiara for the fifth time, _was for him to have planned it in advance without even knowing who my fiancé would be. I don't know if I should be comforted by that fact._ She hated thinking like that toward her father—she was again reminded how she was being used as a chess piece by her father in the grand scheme of his ambitions.

_Papa and the Duke of Weselton must be bristling at each other again over the territorial rights of the Aire mountains,_ she thought. The Aire mountain range served as a divider between the territories of Buckland and Weselton, and it was rumored to be chock-full of gold. Idun had a sneaking suspicion that the rumors of gold had caused the race to get Arendelle's allegiance through marriage.

_And now, he just had to gloat over his victory in securing Agdar as a possible son-in-law by inviting the Duke to the party. Ugh. It probably won't be pretty._ As unsure as she felt toward her engagement party, she still wanted to have a good time with Agdar and her friends.

A knock on the door snapped her out of her anxious musings. "Your Highness, King Raimond is here to see you," Edith, one of her maids, said from the other side of the door. Idun raised her eyebrows. What business would her future father-in-law have with her?

"I will be right out," she called, smoothing her dress. She gave herself a once-over at the full-length mirror near her dresser, noting with satisfaction at how the bust fit her perfectly now. The high-waisted silk dress she wore was purple, her favorite color, and the sleeves and the hem of the skirt were embroidered with the crest of Arendelle. The skirt was violet, which made her dress two-toned. The sleeve hems were trimmed with black lace, and beads and rhinestones were sown into the skirt to make it shimmer. _Mrs. Smythe had really outdone herself,_ Idun thought with approval. The dressmaker didn't have to add Arendelle's crest considering the very tight timeframe, which made the princess very appreciative of her effort. Idun decided to forego the long pair of gloves she usually wore for formal occasions, primarily because she couldn't find one that went well with her dress. Her other, more secret reason was so she could touch her fiancé without gloves being a bother. She allowed a thrill to go through her as she remembered how warm Agdar's hand felt as he walked her back to the castle.

_King Raimond's right outside, you ninny. Don't keep him waiting!_ her brain reminded her rather rudely. Idun dashed to the door, slowing her pace as she neared. Opening the door, she saw Edith and her future father-in-law. "I'm really sorry to intrude upon you like this, Princess Idun," he apologized, his hands behind his back.

"Oh no, Your Majesty, I was just about to come out," Idun replied a little breathlessly. She racked her memory frantically, trying to remember what her etiquette instructor said about inviting people into her chambers. On one hand, Edith and Marie were nearby, but then—

"I won't keep you long," the king of Arendelle said, interrupting her train of thought. "I just have something to give you. I was going to give this to you downstairs, but then I saw your maids. I guessed this was your room and thought, why not give this now."

"Your Majesty?"

King Raimond waved a hand carelessly. "Call me Father, Uncle, or whatever—anything but that. You're going to be my daughter-in-law, anyway." He smiled at her warmly, and Idun couldn't help but smile back.

"How about Papa Raimond?" she suggested mischievously. "I've always called my father Papa, so it kind of makes sense to call you that as well, right?"

"Sounds good to me," he agreed. "Had you suggested Father Raimond, I would have objected. It sounds something you'd call a priest, and I really don't care much about those fuddy-duddy churchmen. So include that along with Your Majesty in the list of things you shouldn't call me." Idun raised her eyebrows at the king's irreverence, but she inwardly agreed with him. Most of the priests and monks she knew were a sanctimonious lot and full of suspicion toward progressive ideas. "Anyway, here." The king produced a box from behind his back and opened it. Idun gasped.

Resting within the velvet box was a pendant bearing Arendelle's crest, the crocus, its necklace a band of black velvet. She knew it was perfect with her ensemble even if it was a simple piece of jewelry. "It's beautiful," she breathed, glancing up at her future father-in-law with gratitude in her eyes. "Are you a mind reader or something? Because it would look perfect with my dress!" She clapped her hands excitedly.

"Well, I was lucky in that regard," King Raimond admitted. "I had this made a long time ago, shortly after I got married. I was going to give this to my daughter on her sixteenth birthday, but fate had deemed I should have Agdar instead. And besides," he said puckishly, "this would look horrible on him."

Idun giggled when she imagined Agdar in her dress wearing the necklace King Raimond gave her. "Yes, I definitely agree," she replied, her hand covering her mouth daintily.

"Father, are you flirting with my fiancée?" Agdar appeared from behind his father, raising a playfully accusing eyebrow at him.

"You really are your mother's son, so suspicious of my 'motives,'" King Raimond grumbled, making air quotes with his fingers. "Can't I do something nice for my future daughter-in-law? I've always wanted a daughter, but I had to content myself with only you." Agdar rolled his eyes at his father's rather immature sally.

"Your father gave me this necklace," Idun interrupted, showing him what his father gave her. "Isn't it nice?"

Agdar glanced at the pendant. "It's nice," he said noncommittally. He flicked a glance at Raimond, who threw up his hands in mock frustration.

"Fine, so it's not up to your exacting standards, but as I told her, I had it made before you were born. Had I known you were as persnickety as your mother…"

Agdar shook his head at his father's antics. "My apologies for his behavior," he said to Idun out of the corner of his mouth. "My mother isn't here to keep him in line."

_That sounded a bit ominous. I wonder what the Queen of Arendelle is like?_ She had heard some stories about insufferable in-laws, but she managed to keep her expression from reflecting her thoughts as she smiled and nodded. "So, why are you here?" she asked instead.

"Oh yes—I, uh…well…" he trailed off, appearing a bit nervous. "I was just passing by, to be honest," he admitted sheepishly. "I went over when I saw my father, and I didn't know this was your room." He shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked back and forth on his heels. Idun recognized it as something he did when he was nervous—she noticed he did it over the past week just before he confirmed his feelings for her yesterday, and she couldn't help but smile at how adorably befuddled he looked.

"I see," Idun said, still smiling slightly. She really didn't know what to say after that, though. A moment of awkward silence descended among them until Marie cleared her throat.

"Ma'am, don't you think it's time for you to go downstairs?" she prompted. "Your father and your brother should be there by now."

"Right, of course," Idun acknowledged. "Well then, gentlemen—shall we?"

"It would be our pleasure," Agdar said with a smile, holding out his arm for her to take. Had Idun looked over her shoulder, she would have seen the broad grin King Raimond sported at seeing his son smitten with his fiancé.

* * *

Agdar looked across the ballroom to see Idun laughing with her friends on the other side. He was with his father and King Bertram, discussing minor details over the deal that had been struck between their families, but he was only listening with half an ear. Even from afar, he was captivated by her. Purple and violet suited her well, he noted, thinking to get her something with an amethyst as a gift.

Which reminded him that he still didn't know when her birthday was.

_Drat._ He glanced at his future father-in-law, wondering when he would pause to take a breath so he could interrupt smoothly. "When is Idun's birthday?" he blurted out when King Bertram paused to sip his wine.

"Eh? Oh, uh…" the king paused and took another sip of his wine. _Don't tell me he doesn't know when his daughter's birthday is,_ Agdar thought in mild disbelief.

King Bertram was saved from having to answer when the Duke of Weselton made his appearance. "Congratulations on your daughter's engagement, Your Majesty," his nasal voice cut through the din of the ballroom. "It must be a coup for you to have secured Arendelle as an ally," he said, appearing by Agdar's elbow. "Good evening King Raimond, Prince Agdar," he acknowledged. "You all must be very happy at how your alliance worked out. Immediate aid for Arendelle and a lifetime discount of fifteen percent! Quite advantageous for both parties indeed," he said with a thin smile.

"Isn't it?" King Bertram replied, baring his teeth into shark's grin. He stared down the duke, who was a head and a half shorter than him. King Raimond cleared his throat to get rid of the tension between the two men.

"Well, tonight is a joyous occasion, nonetheless. My son has a beautiful fiancée, and I'm sure they will go on to produce many grandchildren for me once they're married," he joked with an elbow to his son's ribs.

"Father," he bit out, resisting the urge to slap his forehead. Really, for all King Raimond's savvy in dealing with ordinary folk, he seemed to have no idea how to conduct himself around nobility. The duke's mustache had twitched at the king of Arendelle's remark but thankfully remained silent, only making a noise of agreement.

"Enjoy the party, Your Grace," King Bertram said, turning to a servant to get a fresh goblet of wine. "I made sure to procure and serve the best Madeira to our guests. You wouldn't turn down a vintage from 1795, would you?"

Agdar excused himself when he sensed it was about to turn into a contest of one-upmanship between his future father-in-law and the duke. His father glanced at him and mouthed "go find your fiancée," and he nodded, searching the crowd for Idun. Reaching into his pocket, he fingered the small velvet box he kept there, feeling his pulse start to race when he thought about what he was about to do. The engagement was already a sealed deal for most part, but he didn't know why he was anxious about Idun's reaction when he presents her the engagement ring.

Agdar weaved his way through the crowd, grabbing a goblet of wine to fortify himself. He had every intention to present the thing to Idun yesterday, but then his gut instinct, which he always trusted, told him to wait. So instead of reaching for the velvet box in his pocket, he had reached for her small, soft hand. He felt a mixture of emotions in his chest when he did—a touch of possessiveness, a bit of apprehension, and much tenderness toward his fiancée.

And now, he was feeling a moderate amount of butterflies in his stomach for the stunt he was about to pull.

His pulse was roaring in his ears as each step took him closer to Idun. Time slowed down to a crawl; the world became a melting haze of colors and a cacophony of white noise.

All except her.

Her clear peal of quiet laughter snapped him out of his daze. "Are you alright?" she asked, smiling as she laid a hand on his arm. "You look a little..." she trailed off, trying to find the right word.

"Dazed?" he supplied. "I suppose. Listen," Agdar glanced around, trying to look casual. "Is there a place we could talk privately?"

Idun kept her face pleasantly neutral as well, casting her gaze toward a group of young women some feet away. "Meet me in our gazebo in fifteen minutes," she murmured a under her breath after what seemed to be an eternity for him, waving at the women. He breathed out a sigh of relief even as she glanced at him apologetically. "Duty calls," she sighed, gliding away from him.

Agdar hoped he wouldn't be accosted as well. However, luck seemed to be running hot and cold on him today. He found himself almost bumping into Lord Beverville, the Duke's nephew and heir.

"Your Highness," the pale, thin young man with the slicked-back mousy brown hair and hawklike nose greeted him with a slight nod. "My felicitations on your engagement." He smiled thinly, taking a sip from his wine goblet. Agdar returned the sentiment with a polite smile of his own.

"Thank you, Lord Beverville," he replied, racking his brain for an excuse to get away from him. He never liked the earl from Weselton; while the man never showed any hint of animosity toward him, there always seemed to be an inherent greed and calculation in his gray eyes, as if weighing how each person that crossed his path would be of worth to him. Agdar always felt as if large amount of monetary value was tattooed on his forehead whenever he had to interact with Lord Beverville.

"I do hope that even if an engagement didn't come to fruition between you and my sister, Arendelle and Weselton will remain partners in trade," Lord Beverville said.

"Of course. Arendelle is fortunate to have Weselton as a trading partner. However, if you'll excuse me, Lord Beverville. There is, ah, something I need to take care of," he hedged, finishing his wine and giving his goblet to a passing server. He nodded at Lord Beverville and turned on his heel, still feeling the other man's implacable gaze prickling his neck.

_What did he want with me?_ Agdar wondered. _Then again, maybe he's just trying to get to my good graces. Unfortunately, he doesn't have his uncle's annoying yet still bearable touch. He was just a little...unsettling._ He shook off the uneasy feeling his encounter with the earl left, determinedly replacing it with anticipation at meeting Idun at their gazebo. He left the party as unobtrusively as he could, navigating his way out of the ballroom and into the garden.

_Ah, now I see why my instincts told me to wait,_ he thought with satisfaction. A full moon hung brightly in the star-studded sky—a perfect night for proposing on one knee. Agdar practiced what he will say to Idun.

_I know we were betrothed out of necessity. But I am on one knee before you now as simply Agdar, not the crown prince of Arendelle, to ask you, Idun, to be my wife. _He paused to think about it._ Yes, I suppose that's good, but maybe I can come up with something better…_

"You look so serious, Agdar. Now I'm a little scared," a voice brought him out of his musings. He turned to see Idun standing by the gazebo's entryway with a slight smile on her face, the moonlight gilding her with a soft glow. "Now, what was so important that you wanted to talk to me in private?" she asked.

Agdar felt his mouth go dry. Now that they were alone, all he wanted to say flew away like dandelion fluff in the wind. "I—uh," he started rocking back and forth on his heels, making Idun chuckle. "What?" he asked a little defensively, raising an eyebrow.

"You always do that when you're nervous," she pointed out.

He smiled and stopped his nervous rocking. "I do, don't I? Well, anyway. Idun." He licked his lips before reaching out to grasp both of her hands, drawing strength from her warmth. Locking his jade green eyes on her curiously expectant blue ones, he knelt on one knee, which made her blink and raise her brows in surprise.

"I know I pursued you and asked for your hand in marriage out of necessity. But I am on one knee before you now as Agdar, not the crown prince of Arendelle, to ask you again, Idun: will you marry me?"

It was the longest minute of his life. Idun stared at him, and he could see that she was trying to make sense of what he just did. _Please say something,_ he pleaded inwardly. Then the corner of her mouth twitched before breaking into a radiant smile, bringing back the breath in his lungs.

"Yes! Yes, I will marry you, Agdar. Oh, get up, you silly man, so I could kiss you!" She tugged on his hands to bring him to his feet, and the next thing he knew, his arms were wrapped around Idun's slender waist and hers were around his neck so she could kiss him thoroughly.

They were both inexperienced—he knew he was the first man Idun had ever kissed. But he was surprised by the passion and intensity Idun poured into kissing him—her tongue ran over his lips teasingly, and with a soft moan he opened his mouth to nibble on her bottom lip. His hands went up to cradle both her jaw and shoulders so he could slant his mouth over hers to taste her more fully, while hers slid down to his chest over his heart. She tasted of the champagne that was also served at the party; heady from the taste of her lips, he was reluctant to stop but his lungs were starting to burn. Agdar breathed in deeply when he pulled away from her, resting his forehead against his with a wide grin which she returned.

"You tasted like champagne," he murmured and instantly regretted it. Of all the things he could say after an earth-shattering kiss, that's it? Why not something suave, like...

"Yes, well, I suppose you drank some Madeira before you met me here," she shot back with a quiet laugh, looping her arms around his waist loosely. "Not that I know how it tastes like since Papa had forbidden me to imbibe on it until I'm twenty-one, but thanks to you, now I know," she said with that mischievous grin of hers.

Agdar straightened, tucking a lock of brown hair behind her ear. "Oh, I almost forgot," he said, reaching into his pocket to produce the velvet box that held her engagement ring. "I should have given this to you first, but you seemed more intent on kissing me," he teased as he opened it before her.

She gasped when she saw the square-cut diamond resting on a coronet and surrounded by amethysts. "I noticed that purple seemed to be your favorite color, so..."

"It's beautiful," Idun breathed. Smiling, he reached down for her left hand and slid it into her ring finger and brought it up to his lips to press a gentle kiss on the back of her hand, keeping his eyes on hers.

However, their idyllic moment was shattered when they heard some distant cries. "What the devil is going on?" he muttered, frowning.

His frown deepened when he distinctly heard "Find the prince of Arendelle, quick!"

"Let's head back, Agdar," Idun suggested, concern in her eyes. He nodded and took her hand, and together they followed the cobblestoned path back to the palace. Keeping a moderately quick pace, they soon reached the ballroom where they found a crowd abuzz with excitement and consternation. "What do you think is going on?" she asked softly, an undertone of nervousness in her voice.

"I don't know, but I intend to find out." Setting his jaw in determination, he tapped the shoulder of the man nearest to them, who he remembered was Lord Easterton of Corona. "Excuse me, Lord Easterton?"

The earl from Corona turned, and seeing him, immediately cried out, "He's here! Clear a path!"

The crowd parted, which added to Agdar's confusion and dread. But everything became clear when he followed the path the crowd had made. The world seemed to slow on its axis as his heart stopped. He slowly realized why men were looking for him earlier. His mouth opened to release a guttural, anguished cry.

"Father!


	5. Chapter 5

**_Disclaimer: _**_Frozen is the property of Disney. I do not own anything except the original characters in this work of fanfiction._

* * *

"Oh, do stop fussing, will you? You're worse than your mother," Raimond groused, flopping back against the pillows that propped him up. "It was nothing! I used to have fainting spells as a boy, and it seems it's catching up with me once more because of my advancing age."

The words 'advancing age' rang ominously in Agdar's ears as he stared at his father, clenching his jaw in frustration. _So, you remain committed to playing the people around you for fools, do you, Father?_ he thought, breathing through his nose to calm himself. Raimond's expression remained slightly petulant and bewildered, as if he truly did not understand why his son was blowing things out of proportion. Agdar repeated the mantra he had been chanting inwardly for almost a year now.

_Conceal it, don't feel it. Don't let it show._

Schooling his face into a calmer expression, he eyed the older man, forcing himself to speak in measured tones.

"Father, be straight with me," he said carefully. "Are you truly alright? You're not…hiding anything from me, are you?"

Agdar's sharp eyes caught the briefest moment of hesitation from Raimond, who covered it up with a confused frown. "Of course not!" he blustered. "Agdar, this is nothing a few hours of riding or walking couldn't fix," he continued, waving a hand dismissively to convince his son he was fine. At first glance, the king of Arendelle looked hale and hearty for his age, still trim and fit because of the hobbies he had mentioned. Unlike most of his fellow rulers, Raimond preferred to walk whenever possible instead of taking the carriage. "Heaven forbid I should sweat," he would always say. As such, to most of Arendelle, King Raimond still had many years left in him.

Little did he know that his son was not included among those that believed that.

_That does it._ "We are going to see Doctor Eberhardt immediately when we get home, Father," Agdar declared firmly, noting with perverse satisfaction at how the color drained from Raimond's visage. His temper was starting to rise over his father's repeated denials about the state of his health. But like a consummate actor, Raimond quickly regained his composure and cleared his throat to speak.

"Now, Agdar, there's no need to resort to extreme measures. I'm sure the good doctor is busy—"

The bedridden king's attempt to mollify the crown prince caused the latter's tenuous hold on his fraying temper to snap. "Ah, yes, Doctor Eberhardt is busy, alright," Agdar interrupted, seething. "He's busy trying to figure out how to keep you from dying!"

* * *

Idun's knuckles hovered from the surface of Raimond's room's door, unable to believe what she just heard. "Dying?" she whispered in disbelief. For a few moments, she stared at the door blankly to make sure she heard her fiancé correctly. With a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, her future father-in-law's actions before last night's party began to take on a different meaning. _The necklace wasn__'__t an engagement gift,_ she realized. _It was a parting one._

She lowered her fist slowly, releasing a slow breath. _I__'__d better leave them alone._ But before she could make her escape, the door opened to reveal a tight-lipped Agdar, who had yanked it open. Behind was a pale-faced Raimond staring after him.

"How much did you hear?" Agdar bit out, closing the door behind him with more force than needed and caused Idun to jump at the sound.

"Not everything, but enough," she answered, looking at him with concern. Agdar sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes. He stalked past her and headed toward the staircase. "Agdar, wait!" Idun called out, running after him. His strides were long and quick which gave him a good head start, but he stopped by the top of the stairs at her call, his back ramrod straight and his fists clenched. Idun skidded to a stop, standing close enough for her to touch him, but she let her fiancé be since she was unsure on how to approach him at his time of distress. She bit her lip uncertainly and reached out a tentative hand before pulling back when his shoulders slumped. At that, her heart broke at the sight of him looking defeated.

"You know, I really could use a hug right now," Agdar prompted her, glancing back at her. "Please?"

He had scarcely finished speaking before Idun wrapped her arms from behind him, resting her forehead against his back. "I'm sorry," she mumbled. "I didn't…I wasn't sure how to approach you—" she was cut off when Agdar disengaged and turned toward her, cradling her jaw with his hands. His eyes roved over her face, scrutinizing her features intently. She willed herself not to look away from his piercing gaze, sensing this was a test of some sort. Agdar's intense expression gentled and he stroked her cheeks with his thumbs before letting his hands drop to his sides.

"I understand your hesitation," he said, stepping back and taking her hands in his. "I fell in love with you, but I don't know you that well enough yet. I'm sorry for putting you on the spot there."

"What? No, don't!" Idun shook her head almost vehemently. "With what you just learned, you…" She trailed off, frustrated at her inability to express what she thought. Before she could stop herself, she had already flung her arms around him, burying her face in his chest. She didn't care that they were practically alone and what she did was inappropriate—all she wanted was to comfort him in whatever way she could and damn the consequences. She turned her head to listen to the reassuring sound of his heartbeat, reminding her that this man—her man—was alive and well, causing her to tighten her arms around him.

She didn't know how long they stayed that way, nor did she care. However, her fiancé, ever-mindful of propriety, placed his hands on her shoulders and gently pulled away from her embrace. He looked down at her with a slight frown on his face—she guessed he was internally at war with something. "What is it?" Idun asked, peering up at him a little worriedly.

Agdar didn't answer, his frown melting away into an impassive expression. "It's nothing," he said, rubbing her arms absently. "I'll handle this. Don't worry about me."

"Please don't shut me out," Idun countered quietly. "After what I've seen and heard, how can I not worry? Agdar, your father had already endeared himself to me in so short a time. I'm not sure if I can help you, but I'll never figure out how if you shut me out. I'm your fiancée. If we're going to spend the rest of our lives together, you're going to have to learn how to share your burdens with me."

"You're right," Agdar agreed after a tense pause. "I'm sorry. I didn't want to trouble you. I've always tried to solve things on my own."

"Well, that's going to have to change. Out with it, then. What else is bothering you?" Idun asked bluntly.

Her fiancé sighed and glanced out of the large bay window across the top of the staircase. "Maybe it's better if we talk somewhere else," he hedged, taking her hand. "Let's go to the garden."

The pair walked in silence toward their destination, with Idun's hand tucked securely within the crook of Agdar's arm. Each was preoccupied with their respective thoughts. In Idun's case, she wondered what ailed her future father-in-law. _I still can__'__t believe it,_ she thought, sneaking a glance at Agdar, who resolutely stared straight ahead. _Raimond seemed healthy__—__I wouldn__'__t have known he was__…__dying. I would have chalked up his fainting last night to intoxication._

Upon reaching the garden, Agdar led her to a wrought-iron bench and waited for her to sit down before doing the same. He took a deep breath before starting.

"My father is dying from consumption," he said flatly, his hands clenching on his knees. "I've known it for over a year now."

"But…how? He looks so healthy."

"Oh, he managed to hide it well, all right," Agdar replied, glancing at her. "He appointed me as Arendelle's foreign minister, which kept me away from the castle for months." He gave a snort of self-deprecating laughter. "Said I wanted more responsibilities. Anyway, when I came home unexpectedly last year—I wanted to surprise him for his birthday—I overheard him talking with Doctor Eberhardt, who told him he was…well, you know. That's when I started looking for possible brides."

"Oh."

Agdar sighed deeply, crossing his arms across his chest and leaning against the bench's backrest and staring at the distance. "I am ready to be king. At least, I think so. All my life I've done all I could to prepare for it, because I am the sole heir. That's why I was looking for a bride—so I could keep my family's line secure. If my father was dying, then what's preventing me from the same fate?"

"I read somewhere that your line's been unbroken for a hundred generations," Idun said, remembering what she learned from _A Treatise on the History of Arendelle._

"Oh, that. It's an old family legend. Supposedly, my line's been blessed by the gods." He rolled his eyes and threw up his hands. "Right. If it was, then why is my father dying? Arendelle still needs him."

Idun could clearly read between the lines. _He feels he still needs his father. And he feels the need to marry because he__'__s pressuring himself to produce an heir__—__he__'__ll be the only one left when his father dies,_ she thought, reaching for his hand to squeeze it reassuringly. _Oh Agdar, I wish I could make you feel better. You__'__re not alone. I__'__m here._

He squeezed back and entwined his fingers against hers. "I suppose I should go and apologize for my outburst," he remarked.

"You should. But he should apologize to you as well for keeping such an important thing from you."

"Right."

They sat for a while longer, basking in the comfortable silence.

"Please excuse me. I need to talk to Father…we'll need to resolve this before we leave tomorrow," he said, standing up. Idun followed suit and raised herself on her toes to kiss his cheek.

"For luck," she explained sheepishly when he shot her a surprised look. "I'm sure you and your father will patch things up, but better safe than sorry, right?"

He smiled and nodded before he turned and marched down the path leading back toward the palace, leaving her to look after him with worry. An idea began forming in her mind, something unexpected that she almost rejected it immediately, thinking how foolish it was. But thinking about what she had learned in the past hour or so had her reconsidering the idea. She stayed in the garden for a good two hours, turning her idea in her head over and over to make sure she wasn't making an impetuous decision. But she knew in her heart that it had been made.

Her stomach growled, reminding her that perhaps it would be a good idea to get a bite to eat. Momentous decisions can't be made on an empty stomach.

* * *

Contrary to what he said to Idun, Agdar didn't immediately head to his father's room to apologize. Anger and resentment still simmered within him, which led him to brood in his room for a couple of hours. He didn't understand why Raimond kept his illness secret from him. Didn't he have a right to know?

_I deserve a bloody explanation and I won__'__t get it puttering about in here,_ he thought with a sigh. But it took him ten minutes to gather his nerve to walk up to Raimond's room and knock on his door, taking a deep breath as he did. "Yes, who is it?" his father asked, his voice muffled.

"It's me."

He heard some shuffling noises before the door opened. Agdar blinked. The past two hours seemed to have taken its toll on his father. He noted the uncharacteristically grave expression on Raimond's face, the grim set of his mouth deepening the lines around it.

"Father."

"Agdar." Raimond stepped aside and motioned for him to come in. Father and son stared at each other for a moment before the younger one spoke up.

"I'm sorry for my outburst earlier, Father. I—"

Raimond held up a hand. "No, you were right to be angry at me. I lied to you for a long time." He sighed heavily, sitting on a nearby chair. "I suppose you're wondering why I didn't tell you."

"The thought did cross my mind," Agdar remarked, forcing himself to keep calm.

"I didn't want to worry you." Raimond chuckled mirthlessly. "That's a poor excuse, I know, but you had your life ahead of you, son. You were successful in your endeavors, and I didn't want to weigh you down. I had planned to tell you after your engagement though, because as you've seen, I'm getting worse."

Agdar kept silent, waiting for his father to say more.

"But you've known from the beginning. Tell me, why didn't you confront me?" Raimond asked, tilting his head curiously. "Is that why you suddenly quit your post and announced you were searching for a bride?"

"Yes," he admitted. "I focused on that because I knew you didn't have much time, but I didn't want to let on that I knew. That's why I was so 'persnickety' as you've put it—I wanted to find a bride that you'd approve of as well."

"And approve of her I do," Raimond agreed. "Get to know her better, Agdar. I think she's a good match for you. You need someone who'd support you in everything you do, especially since you have a tendency to put everything on your shoulders. You can't be responsible for everything, you know."

"How much…time do you have left, Father?" Agdar asked after a pregnant silence. The other shook his head.

"I don't know."

_Damn it,_ Agdar thought. _I__'__ll have to ask her. I promised her that she had time, but time doesn__'__t seem to be on my side._

He sighed, his heart feeling heavy and torn. Fear of losing two important people in his life gripped him, leaving him unsure how he'll live through it if it happens.

_How quickly things change. And when it does, it steals time away._


	6. Chapter 6

**_DISCLAIMER: _**_Frozen is the property of Disney. I do not own anything, except the original characters in this fanfiction. Disney also owns the King and Queen of Arendelle._

* * *

There wasn't anything left to say, really. At that point in time, what needed to be said between father and son had been laid out plainly. What needed to be done was to pick up the pieces the aftermath left and figure out the next steps to be taken.

_Namely, break my promise to Idun and pressure her to marry me,_ Agdar brooded, staring into the brandy snifter he held. He was currently in the library as King Bertram had suggested—earlier, he ran into his future father-in-law as he wandered the palace walls, his thoughts in turmoil. The king was kind enough to send a bottle of brandy as well, along with a note to keep the drinking in moderation. Agdar rarely drank, preferring to keep a clear head at all times, but it seemed a shame to waste perfectly good liquor sent by his host.

He closed his eyes, reliving the day he learned the truth a little more than a year ago…

* * *

_The crown prince took the stairs two steps at a time, excited to see this father again and bring him good news. Today was King Raimond__'__s 60th birthday, and while he was reassured that missing the festivities later tonight would not be such a disappointment considering his responsibilities as Arendelle__'__s foreign minister, doing such a thing was unthinkable for him. He did all he could to make it in time, almost strong-arming the Duke of Weselton into accepting the trade partnership of their respective countries. The old man had proven to be a challenge to his diplomatic abilities, but in the end Agdar succeeded in hammering out a fair deal despite his hurry. However, there was one thing he could not afford to agree to._

_Betrothal to the duke__'__s niece._

_He had managed to satisfy the old man's__ insistence with the promise that he will think about it very carefully, since it will be for the good of Arendelle. In reality though, the idea of being married to Lady Camilla was like a prison sentence. He had danced with her several times in the past, mostly to foster goodwill between their respective countries, but her high-and-mighty attitude put him off. She knew she was a catch because of her dowry, and she never ceased to remind him of it during all their interactions._

_Such a crass display of snobbishness and wealth did not agree with him. But personal preferences aside, being a trade partner to Weselton was an opportunity he could not afford to pass up, and as such, put up the duke and his niece with as much patience he could muster._

_Agdar finally reached the study, where one of the servants had said the king was. He was a little concerned to learn that his father was meeting with Doctor Eberhardt, a good family friend, but his excitement over securing a trade partnership with Weselton overrode his apprehensions. His hand poised over the door to knock, he stopped short when he heard the doctor__'__s gravelly voice. Though the sound was muffled, the words of concern Doctor Eberhardt spoke pierced through the sturdy wood._

_"__Please do not strain yourself at the celebration later, Your Majesty,__"__Eberhardt said. __"__Men younger than you have been felled by your__…__condition. Conserve your strength. And forgive my bluntness, but please think about getting your affairs in order. Consumption is merciless and has no cure. I can only buy you some time.__"_

_Agdar__'__s eyes widened at what he heard. _Consumption?_ he thought dumbly. _How long—why—?

_He never did finish his thought, stepping back instinctively when he heard the door opening to reveal King Raimond and Doctor Eberhardt. __"__Agdar!__"__his father exclaimed, raising his eyebrows. __"__Well, this is certainly a pleasant surprise, I didn__'__t expect you to be home until next week.__"_

_He didn__'__t know how he managed it, but he felt his mouth stretch into a smile as Raimond enveloped him in a hearty hug. __"__I wanted to surprise you, Father,__"__he answered, injecting false cheer in his voice and returning his father__'__s embrace to disguise the storm of confusion and disbelief raging within him over what he had just learned._

_The celebration was a blur for Agdar, who hid behind a polite fa__ç__ade that fooled everyone into thinking things were going very well for him. As a new and important trading partner, the Duke of Weselton was invited along with his nephew and niece. Keeping a tight rein on his emotions became especially difficult when he engaged Lady Camilla in conversation when he realized that with his father dying, he needed to marry to make sure the Arendahl line remains secure._

_"__What the hell is wrong with me?__" __he muttered as he made his way to the study the next day, raking a hand through his hair. __"__I already have someone willing to marry me__—__why do I have to make things difficult?__"_

_He pushed aside the unwanted thought that he was too selfish to marry Lady Camilla._

_"__You__'__re looking for a bride?__"__Raimond peered at him curiously, sitting behind his great oaken desk. __"__What brought this on?__"_

_"__I just thought maybe it__'__s time for me to settle down.__"_

_"__This sudden desire of yours to get married doesn__'__t have anything to do with me getting old, is it?__"__Raimond raised a dubious eyebrow at him._

No, but it has everything to do with you dying, _he countered bitterly in his head. _Why didn't you tell me anything, Father?

_And so began his search for a bride. He looked at all possible candidates from the royal and noble families of Corona and Andalasia, while appeasing Weselton with the flimsy excuse that since word got out that he was looking to get married, he needed to show these countries that he would consider their offers. While he preferred the candidates Corona and Andalasia had presented over Weselton__'__s, his instincts told him to keep searching. As logical as he prided himself to be, Agdar trusted his gut feelings. He kept assuring Weselton that nothing has been made final, and his unease grew when the other candidates decided to pursue other prospects._

_He was sure the duke was responsible for such a turn of events. The old man was wily and ambitious, and Agdar wouldn__'__t put it past him to have bribed a poor sod to propose marriage to the other candidates._

_"__You missed Buckland,__"__Raimond pointed out as he stood beside his son, who was scrutinizing a map of Eudora which hung on the wall of the study closely. __"__King Bertram was a chum from my university days, and I believe he has a daughter.__"_

_Two months later, Agdar found himself captivated by a pair of blue eyes._

_It was then he knew that his search was over._

* * *

Snapping back to the present, Agdar took a deep breath and downed the entire glass of brandy, burning a fiery trail down his throat. Tears stung his eyes over the liquor's potency; his head spun as he set the snifter on a nearby table. "That was a bad idea," he muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose and squeezing his eyes shut to center himself.

Agdar wondered why he didn't tell Raimond he knew about the latter's condition. _I never did answer him clearly when he asked,_ he ruminated, frowning and rubbing his right temple. _Truth is, I'm not sure either. I suppose it was because consumption is a lost cause__—__nothing I can do or say will make him better, and I didn't want to add to his worries. Instead, I focused on the best course of action for the future__—__to find a wife,_ he justified to himself, almost defensively.

He sighed. "But not telling him was really just running away from reality. It still caught up with you. So what are you going to do now?" he asked himself.

He remained in the library for the rest of the day, preparing himself for what he will say to Idun and her father later tonight.

And for the worst.

* * *

Idun wished her best friend Anna was here right now to give her sound advice. _Well, probably not advice, because if she were here, she__'__d say I__'__m crazy and that I can__'__t marry a man I just met,_ she thought, absently reaching for a strawberry from a bowl before her. She was in her room to ponder on her decision, sitting by her desk, having passed by the kitchens to ask for her favorite fruit.

_Couldn__'__t ask for a better friend than her, though. Even if that__'__s what she thought, I know she__'__ll have my back. What I wouldn__'__t give for her support right now, but since she__'__s on the other side of the country for their family vacation__…__well. Looks like I__'__m on my own._

She popped another strawberry into her mouth, squaring her shoulders as she chewed it almost defiantly, scowling as she did so. _Why am I putting up such a fuss? I am old enough. I am an engaged woman, and it__'__s not as if there__'__s disagreement on both sides._

Her shoulders slumped a few seconds later when she realized she was hesitant to take the final step.

Because like in the beginning of her engagement, she was afraid.

_Marriage would mean so many changes__…__changes that I__'__m not sure I__'__ll be able to handle. I__'__ll be__…__queen. Am I ready to place such a burden on my shoulders? I__'__ll also be a wife and mother__—__what do I know about raising children? All I know is clouting my brother__'__s head whenever he__'__s being a brat. I don__'__t think that__'__s good parenting._

Another unwanted thought followed. _Will I even bear children? There__'__s no guarantee I can do that, and Agdar is adamant to keep his line secure. What if__…__what if I fail to give him a son?_

Idun sighed and rested her chin on her hand to look out the window. It was a mild spring afternoon—she could see the trees outside swaying gently in the breeze, a marked contrast to the storm of confusion and uncertainty raging within her.

"And here I thought I was ready to take on marriage. Turns out I most likely am not," she muttered. "I'm right back at where I started. What am I going to tell Agdar if he breaks his promise? I can't blame him if he does that, considering the circumstances."

Another strawberry disappeared into her mouth again before she continued speaking her thoughts out loud. "My future father-in-law was an idiot to have kept that from his son," she mumbled, chewing. "So was my fiancé—he should have told his father that he knew. Blockheads, both of them. And they probably didn't foresee how their stupid decisions had affected other people."

But she knew she couldn't stay angry at them for long—the surge of anger she felt at her realization was quickly fading already. _What__'__s done is done, I suppose,_ she thought, reaching for the last strawberry in her bowl. _If Agdar does go back on his word about giving me a year__'__s time to prepare myself, I__'__ll tell him I__'__ll be in Arendelle in three months. Or__…_

_What if I just break off the engagement?_

But she knew she couldn't do it. How could she, when she had already accepted his proposal? How could she reject him, knowing he was going through something painful? How could she even think of leaving him, when he was about to face changes while dealing with losing someone very important to him?

"I can only hope to become half the man my father is," he had told her a couple of days ago, when they were exchanging stories about their childhood in the garden to get to know each other better. "People are saying he is set to become of on Arendelle's most beloved kings simply because he was there for them. He had a knack for securing people's loyalty because he loved being around them. He told me once that nothing made him happier than to see them smile. As for me, well." He shrugged and had flashed her a self-deprecating smile. "I am his complete opposite, so I don't know how I'm going to live up to his legacy."

A knock on her door interrupted her musings. "Who is it?" she called out, wiping the corners of her mouth with her thumb.

"Peter, your highness. Your father requests your presence in his study," the servant's voice was muffled but still distinguishable.

Idun shot to her feet, her heart pounding. _Does he know about King Raimond's condition?_ she wondered. She walked briskly to the door and opened it to find Peter waiting for her. "Did he say why he wants me?" she asked.

The servant shook his head. "No, your highness. However, he did say that it was rather urgent."

_He knows._

"Alright. Thank you, Peter. I'll see myself to Papa's study," she said. Peter took it as a dismissal and left with a slight bow of his head.

She took a deep breath to fortify herself. "It'll be alright," Idun told herself, patting her cheeks and wincing when she did it a little too hard. Closing the door of her bedroom behind her, she marched resolutely down the hall toward her father's study, steeling herself for what he possibly wanted from her.

* * *

"I assume you know about your future father-in-law's condition, Idun," King Bertram began, steepling his fingers as he leveled a measuring look at his daughter from behind his desk. Idun sat on a chair at the other side of the desk, her clammy hands fisting the fabric of her yellow dress.

"Yes, Papa," she murmured, trying to keep her voice from trembling with nervousness.

"Have you thought about what could possibly happen next?"

Idun stared at her father, unsure if he was asking her opinion on what she wanted to do. Most of the decisions pertaining to her engagement were beyond her control, aside from Agdar giving her time and the final say if she wanted to marry him or not.

She decided to take Bertram's question at face value and answered him. "I have. And I think Agdar will ask me to marry him sooner."

Bertram leaned back on his chair and made a thoughtful noise. "I think so too. And what would you feel and do if he does that?"

"I don't know, Papa," Idun blurted out. "In fact, earlier today I decided to tell him that I want to marry him as soon as possible, but then when I thought about it...I don't know." She shrugged helplessly, noting how her father's eyes widened at what she said.

"You...wanted to marry him as soon as possible?" Bertram echoed. "I thought you were—" He cut himself off, narrowing his eyes at Idun, with the latter feeling her cheeks burn at the former's scrutiny. "Have you fallen in love with him?" he asked bluntly.

Idun gulped, taken aback at the frank question. "Yes I have," she answered quietly once she had composed herself. "I was surprised considering how it's only been a week, but Agdar proposed at the party just before his father collapsed. And I accepted."

Bertram raised his eyebrow at how familiarly his daughter addressed her fiancé but decided to let it slide. "That makes things neat for the arrangement, doesn't it? So why are you feeling apprehensive about it?"

"I have fallen in love with him, Papa, but I don't know him that well. And that scares me," she replied. "What if the attraction fades? A royal marriage isn't something easily dismissed." She paused, gathering her thoughts. "I could see Agdar is kind and that family is important to him. So far the only fault I've seen in him is his tendency to keep things to himself. I think I can live with that. But I'm not entirely sure." She stopped again, wondering if she should tell him what her mother told her about marriage. Seeing her father's patient silence, she decided to forge on. "Mama told me—she told me I should marry someone who would love me for who I am. I have no doubt Agdar had fallen in love with me, but...I'm not sure if he loves me." She shook her head, frustrated at her inability to be articulate. "Am I making any sense?"

At the back of her mind she was startled over how she had confided her misgivings to her father. He was the last person she would have picked to pour out her feelings to, but once she had, it was as if a dam had broken and words came out of her in torrents. And what's even more startling—it seemed that he understood.

"Love," he muttered under his breath, looking away from Idun to look outside the window. Idun followed her father's gaze and saw how it settled on a bluebird hopping on a branch. "The woman I loved loved listening to birdsong," he remarked absently, causing Idun to whip her head back at him.

"Woman you...loved?" she asked uncertainly. Bertram chuckled at her bewildered look.

"Don't look so surprised. This ambitious windbag is human too. I have fallen in love. And I made the mistake of letting her go for the sake of duty."

"You didn't love Mama, then."

Bertram sighed and met her gaze head on. "No, but I eventually became fond of her in my own way. And not a day goes by that I regret neglecting her. When I let go of my true love, ambition was all I had left. Well, you and your brother too." He paused, clenching his jaw as if to keep his emotions at bay. "I am saying that love is a risk, Idun. Whatever your decision may be, I will stand by you. If you find yourself regretting your decision, I will still stand by you. But don't let fear of the unknown keep you from pursuing your happiness. Sometimes, you will find it in the most unexpected way."

Idun felt tears welling up at her father's words. Bertram was not the most demonstrative of fathers, and he rarely voiced what he felt. She knew he loved his children dearly, but hearing him say those words were a balm to her fearful heart.

"Well then, I think I know what I will tell Agdar, Papa. And thank you." She smiled and reached for his hand, grasping it tightly in hers. "I won't forget this."

Bertram's other hand reached out to tuck a wayward lock of brown hair behind her ear. "I only wish for your happiness, Idun, whatever it may be."


	7. Chapter 7

**_Note: _**_I am so sorry for not having updated this for a long time. I've been struggling with this fic, and frankly, this update probably isn't the best one I've got. But rather than leave this hanging indefinitely, I sat my ass down and wrote, and this is what came out. I was torn between updating until I was happy with it, but at some point I realized that if I kept putting this off, I will NEVER post anything. I promise to do better next time. That being said, constructive criticism will greatly be appreciated._

_**DISCLAIMER:**__ Frozen is the property of Disney. I do not own anything, except the original characters in this fanfiction. Disney also owns the King and Queen of Arendelle._

* * *

"Bertram and I have spoken. He knows about my condition," Raimond announced to Agdar as the younger man entered his father's room after coming from the library. He had made up his mind—he planned to tell his father that he will ask Idun to marry him as soon as possible. He found Raimond penning some letters on his desk, seemingly better because he no longer looked pale and wan. However, Agdar's sharp eyes caught the handkerchief that lay by his right, which meant...

_He's coughing up blood,_ he realized. _He's getting worse._

Agdar quickly darted his gaze away from the handkerchief and simply nodded in response. Rarely has he felt unsure of his next move—he was a planner, but this had blown up in his face spectacularly. Then again, he had not counted on falling in love, nor had he foreseen that he would make a promise he may have to break that would risk his relationship with Idun.

"What did King Bertram say?" he asked, pulling up a chair by Raimond's side.

"He said he'll speak to Idun about this and—"

"Is he going to force her to rush the marriage? Because I won't have it," Agdar interrupted fiercely, waving his hand. "I won't force Idun to do something she isn't ready for. I gave her my word that I will give her time." But the fire in his eyes went out, causing his shoulders to slump. "That's what I want to do, anyway. But I may have to break my word because of...this." He clenched his jaw to force back the bitterness he felt over the situation.

Raimond looked taken aback at his son's outburst before he sighed. "Had I known keeping my illness a secret would cause this predicament...anyway." He pinned Agdar with an assessing gaze, seemingly perceiving the turmoil the younger man felt, and flashed a small, understanding smile at him. "You really do love her, don't you, Agdar?" he observed, raising an eyebrow. "This isn't just some temporary flirtation for you." There was no question in Raimond's voice.

"No."

"Even though you've only known her for a week?"

"I'm sure of it."

"So you're prepared to stand by her through thick and thin? Through sickness and in health?" Raimond pressed.

Agdar met his father's eyes steadily. "With all my heart."

"Then it wouldn't be a problem if you wait for her to be ready for marriage."

The stony look of determination on Agdar's face faded. "It's not that simple," he sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration as he paced before Raimond. "You know how life is uncertain, Father. With you..." he trailed off, bowing his head and searching for the right word to say that wasn't so brutal in its honesty.

"Dying," Raimond supplied bluntly.

Agdar grunted. "Yes, that. Well. If I'm not married by then, I'll be the only one left to continue our line. If something happens to me and I've no heir—"

"Agdar. You worry too much."

"Father!" His head whipped up to meet Raimond's serene gaze. "Do I need to remind you what happens to countries that do not have a ruler? It gets carved up among power-hungry nations! That is precisely why I wish to be married—"

"Even so," the king interrupted. "I understand why, and it strengthens my belief that you will be a good ruler when you take the throne. But I do not want you or Idun to get married for my sake, or even the kingdom's sake. If you do marry, do it for each other. Do it out of love, not duty. That comes later, when both of you face life's challenges together. And believe me, when you're king, you're going to need all the love and support you're going to get from your queen."

Agdar stared at Raimond, who returned his gaze calmly. "...I don't know," he faltered, hating the indecision that tinged his voice. "I do love Idun, and I'm willing to walk to the ends of the earth for her. " He did not speak for a moment, wondering if he should even ask a rhetorical question. "It was like that between you and Mother, wasn't it?"

"You've seen it for yourself, son."

Agdar smiled faintly. "That I did. Probably why I couldn't stomach marrying Weselton's niece, even if she had been the sensible choice."

"What did I tell you? Us Arendahls are romantics." Raimond winked.

His smile widened when he saw his father's indomitable cheer surfacing. However, the moment was shattered when a series of coughs caused Raimond to hunker down, scrabbling for his handkerchief to cover his mouth. The crown prince could only watch helplessly as the sound of the king's explosive, raspy coughs filled the room, forcibly reminding him that time was running out.

The coughing fit subsided and left the older man heaving for breath. "Damned bl—disease," he muttered, staring at the blood-stained cloth in his hand. "Hmph. Almost made a pun there."

"That's not funny," Agdar muttered back.

"You know me, I always try to find humor even in the worst of situations," Raimond quipped. "It's probably best if you don't linger around me overlong. Go get some fresh air. Bertram has graciously let us stay for an additional week for me to recuperate, but I thought I should hurry getting my affairs in order. And prepare your mother, I suppose." He paused, giving Agdar some time to process what it implied. "We're leaving late afternoon tomorrow."

"How did Mother take the news of your illness?" Agdar inquired. "Did you ask her to keep this a secret from me too?"

"Of course she took it hard," Raimond answered. "She and I got into a horrific fight, and we didn't speak to each other for a week." He sighed and shook his head. "Then we realized how stupid we were being since I don't have much time left—why waste it over pride? She let me do as I thought was right, and we had a silent agreement that if it backfires, she'll give me a hard time over it. I'll give her a week to keep rubbing it in."

"Make that a month. You know how much she loves being right."

"Don't I know it," Raimond replied ruefully. "Well, what are you still doing here? Go find Idun and talk to her."

"I'm going, I'm going." Agdar raised his hands in surrender and headed toward the door.

"Son?"

He turned and looked at his father in askance, raising an eyebrow. Raimond cleared his throat and took a breath before speaking.

"You will make a fine king."

Agdar inclined his head in acknowledgement. "Thank you, Father," he said simply, keeping his emotions bottled up. It will not do to lose control once more—it was useless because it would not cure Raimond. Driving a wedge between himself and his father because he lost control was the last thing he wanted to do.

He strode out of the room without a backward glance, closing the door behind him so he could go on a walk while thinking about how he will tell his fiancée about his decision.

* * *

"So, Papa, you're going to support me whatever decision I end up making?" Idun asked, winding her arm around his and resting her hand on the crook of his elbow as they walked down the hall of portraits. Father and daughter were headed to the dining room for dinner—their talk had stretched out to the rest of the afternoon, with them coming to terms over Bertram's benign neglect over Idun's mother. _Well, that's one wound healed,_ Idun thought as she waited for her father to answer, looking up at him.

"You know I will," Bertram answered, patting her hand reassuringly. "Which reminds me—what IS your decision? It never came up while we were talking earlier."

"Well..." she drew out the word, rolling her eyes upward to avoid his curiously intent gaze, "I think I'll keep it to myself a little longer. Just to be sure." She smiled up at him and squeezed his arm. "Thank you for your support, Papa. I promise that whatever I decide, it won't just be for me, but for the good of both Arendelle and Buckland."

"Good."

Dinner with the king and crown prince of Arendelle was going smoothly on the surface, but the former's condition had cast a pall over them, making the conversation rather stilted. The kings talked about goings on at the Southern Isles, which Idun listened to with half an ear as she observed Agdar as unobtrusively as she could.

He had been pleasant—nothing in his demeanor suggested anything amiss. He had smiled at her a few times.

And that made Idun highly suspicious.

Her mother used to do that—pretend everything was alright, a fixed smile in place, but one that did not reach her eyes.

Agdar's eyes were the same.

Idun knew it was quite presumptuous of her, but had he decided to postpone marriage (she refused to add 'their' because she was presumptuous enough already)? If he was, then why? Did he come up with some plan to make sure the Arendellian succession remained secure considering his father's condition?

_One of the drawbacks of getting engaged in a week—you don't know if your fiancé has a streak of martyrdom,_ she thought wryly.

"The Southern Isles is particularly worrying," her father was saying. "Half a dozen royal sons, with two different wives. Queen Sieglinde was alright, I suppose, gods rest her soul—but Queen Matilda? That woman is bad news. It wouldn't surprise me if she is plotting to put one of her sons on the throne over the heir."

"Yes, too many contenders for the throne," Raimond agreed mildly. Agdar looked stricken for a fleeting moment, then schooled his features into a neutral mask. Idun supposed the mention of sons reminded him of his predicament over Arendelle's throne. She tried frantically to catch her father's eye, but he barreled on.

"Not good for the continent, either. If Nicolaus managed to marry all of his sons off to other royal families, why—he could easily gain control without having to wage war. And the damn Isles possesses the strongest navy in Eudora as well," Bertram went on. "I actually received a marriage proposal shortly after I agreed to yours. Idun for Prince Ferdinand."

"Ah, the heir. I imagine it was a tempting offer, Bertram. With your military and their navy, an alliance between you two would have been powerful indeed," Raimond remarked.

"I don't trust Nicolaus, Raimond."

"So instead you chose to ally with a nation you can push around," the king of Arendelle commented with a raised eyebrow.

"Come now..."

"Don't worry. Arendelle prefers to stay in the sidelines. Even if we did have the resources, we don't have the manpower..." Raimond trailed off, his complexion going ashen. He clutched at his chest and wheezed for breath.

"Father!" Agdar shot from his chair and placed a hand on Raimond's back protectively, alarm writ clear on his face. "Someone—get a doctor, quickly!"

Idun watched, helpless and rooted at her spot as she wrung her hands over her chest. Bertram had sprung into action and told Richard to fetch the royal physician. Frustration that she could not do anything made her hands clench into fists as her mind worked furiously to think of something—anything—she could do, her heart going out for her fiancé.

"Agdar," Raimond clutched at his son's coat lapels, his breathing severely labored. "Trust—your judgment. Do not be swayed by this—follow...your..." his voice grew softer and his grip loosened. Idun gasped when Raimond's head lolled forward, his eyes sliding shut.

"Nononono...Father, stay with me. Please, Father. Don't..." Agdar stopped, his throat working to swallow hard. Idun's hands flew to cover her mouth as Agdar's face crumpled into a mixture of surprise, denial, anger, and despair. She wanted to run to his side, but she remained rooted to her spot, a mere spectator over the tableau before her.

"Father," she heard him choke out as something warm trickled down her cheek. Tears? she wondered. But why? Unless...

Agdar bowed and cradled Raimond close against him, rocking back and forth, his eyes squeezed shut and jaw clenched. The royal physician soon burst in and stopped momentarily before positioning himself on the king of Arendelle's unoccupied side, checking for a pulse. His expression remained neutral, but Idun knew.

King Raimond of Arendelle was gone.

* * *

The Royal Physician of Buckland, Dr. Archimedes Walpole, had declared that the King of Arendelle's cause of death was apoplexy. "Was it caused by his consumption?" King Bertram asked.

"Most likely not, sire," the physician answered. He, Bertram, Idun, and Agdar were in the parlor to discuss the next steps. Agdar could barely believe that he had run out of time with his father. He knew his time with him was limited, but this...

He tried very hard not to curse God. But then...

"...I could conduct an autopsy to ascertain—"

"No," Agdar said abruptly, speaking out for the first time. "This may be a blessing in disguise—my father didn't have to suffer through his illness." Out of the corner of his eye he saw Idun's face clouding over with sympathy, causing a surge of irritation to wash over him. He didn't need sympathy, noting with dull surprise and pride at how calm he seemed.

Or maybe he was just left numb with shock over what happened.

But Agdar knew that wasn't exactly the case. He felt robbed, and he wanted nothing more than to run away to rage against the injustice done to him by fate. He wasn't ready to have Raimond taken away from him.

But he had duties to fulfill. Those, he was ready for.

_Conceal it, don't feel it. Don't let it show._

Agdar had to get out of the parlor. Right now.

Dr. Walpole cleared his throat, snapping the prince out of his brooding. "It may take a week to prepare the king's body for the journey back to Arendelle," he informed Agdar.

"Thank you," he responded. "If you'll excuse me, I need to write to my mother about what happened to prepare her. King Bertram—"

"Why not leave immediately?" Idun interrupted, speaking up for the first time. He looked at her in surprise, his eyebrows shooting up. She looked surprised herself, as if she had not expected to say anything. "I mean…" she faltered before taking a deep breath to fortify herself. "Your mother will need you. It would be better if you tell her yourself."

"But what about—"

"I will accompany your father when the preparations are done." She turned to King Bertram, who wore a bemused expression on his face. "I have your permission to do so Father, yes?" There was a note of finality in her voice that told Agdar she was confident she would get her way.

Not if he had anything to do about it.

"No."

A beat of silence fell over them. "Why not?" Her brows came together into a stubborn frown that warned him he was in for an argument.

"I don't have time for this. Please excuse me. I have an urgent letter to write." He walked past his fiancée, whose mouth had fallen open at his rather rude refusal, but at this point he was too stretched thin to care if he was.

"Leave him, Idun," he heard Bertram say as he stalked toward the door of the parlor. "Now is not the time."

"But Papa—"

Agdar closed the door.


End file.
